The Arkkien
by TwistedLittleAngel
Summary: Self-made women don't need men. At least, this is what Hermione tells herself. But sometimes, self-made women are picked out by beings who are more then just men. Enter Draco Malfoy. Who seems to have accquired some...wings? M/F rated M, Language.
1. Mr Grenne

**A/N: Hey everyone! If you've read a story by me before, I'm giving you fair warning now that this story is nothing like my previous ones. If you're new to me, HELLO, glad to have you, and I hope you like my stuff xD**

**Warnings: Language, mature adult themes, and eventual explicit content. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about the characters or the world they inhabit, however the Arkkien idea and name is my own. **

**88888888**

"Mr. Grenne, I'm sure that you know that I really can't do anything about your situation." Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples as the satyr in front of her sputtered his indignation. This was going to be a very long day. She glanced at the clock and inwardly moaned. It was only 10 in the morning.

"You assured me when I was assigned to you that you would do everything in your power to make sure that my individual needs were met whenever necessary. So far, you have not done so!" Nathaniel Grenne looked across the large mahogany desk and glared at the auburn-haired woman opposite him. His ears flicked impatiently.

"Yes, Mr. Grenne, I promised you that, but I must point out that your wishes are outside of the accepted parameters for satyr behavior. You must understand that. If you had wanted a more reasonable bargain…" She trailed off as she watched his eyes darken in anger.

Mr. Grenne stood up and placed his large, golden brown hands on her desk. He leaned forward.

Hermione, seated in her chair, was several inches shorter than the tall man, but she refused to be intimidated. Satyrs had little to no actual magical ability, besides their powers of seductive persuasion. The reason that she had been assigned to him in the first place was because she was immune to all forms of magical persuasion, a talent that the Ministry of Magic took advantage of on a near daily basis.

She leaned forward, placing her forehead mere inches from his. She smirked as she saw his pupils dilate in response. Satyrs were so easy to manipulate.

"I assure you, Mr. Grenne, that your request to be allowed liberties with whatever witch you chose was not only something that I _couldn't _do, but it was most definitely something that I _wouldn't_, under any circumstances, consider. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" She smiled at him sweetly, but there was steel in her voice.

His nostrils flared.

"I won't tolerate this…this…condescension!" He shouted. His body visibly shook from his anger. "I won't be looked down upon!" He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

After his footsteps had retreated down the corridor, Hermione let her clammy forehead fall down on to her desk. She sighed.

She wasn't being condescending. If she had any prejudices towards non-wizards, she wouldn't have maintained her position as one of the top representatives for the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Protection of Non-Wizard Magical Persons. You couldn't be that good at your job of protecting non-wizard rights if you were constantly battling your inner hatred for them.

Hermione picked up her forehead from the cool desk and glanced at the closed door. He wouldn't be coming back. At least, not as her client. Oh, he'd bitch and rave about her 'refusal' to acquiesce his request, but nobody would believe that Hermione Granger, main activist for non-wizard's legal rights, would treat a satyr unfairly. And when she told them what exactly he had been planning to do with his plan….

Hermione shivered. It was beings like Mr. Grenne that gave the non-wizards a bad name. Satyrs in particular had a trying time in modern day wizard society, due to the numerous legends and myths about what they could do to the average wizard. While many of these legends were falsified accounts, there were a couple of satyrs that lived up to the heinous expectations.

But, as Hermione liked to remind the Wizarding public daily, Voldemort had been a wizard. All species have their closet skeletons, and as an intimate survivor of the war that nearly ripped apart the Wizarding world, Hermione was fully qualified to remind the public of just who, and what, had created that damage.

Thinking back, Hermione guessed that it had probably been Voldemort, and his twisted ideology, that had cemented her decision to become a non-wizard rights activist. The fact that the Wizarding public could look at the few twisted non-wizards out there, like Mr. Grenne, and say 'all satyrs are evil' and then not be able to see that those few satyrs are like the 'Voldemorts' of the non-wizard world disturbed her. So she had decided to stick up for the good ones out there.

Harry had understood her immediately. His experiences as being the 'odd one out' had made him see the point to her actions immediately. Ron hadn't got it immediately, but as soon as she had begun to change the Wizarding law, and Ron had seen the people she was defending, he had understood. Ron had always been a much more 'visual proof' person.

Hermione reluctantly got out of her seat and walked out into the office main area. Mr. Grenne had probably stirred up a storm on his way out of her office, and she had to deal with it before it became a fuss.

All the office attendants poked their heads outside of their cubicles as her black stilettos thumped mutedly against the soft gray carpet. She gave them all a reassuring smile, and they smiled back and returned to their work.

She walked out of the office area and headed for the department lobby, located by the main Ministry elevators.

Reaching the desk, she smiled at Fannie, the nice redhead who had been the main department secretary for five years. She had helped introduce Hermione to the offices when she had first started at the Ministry three and a half years ago.

"Hey, Fannie. Did you see Mr. Grenne?"

Fannie rolled her eyes. "Did I SEE him? That man created a tornado on his way out. Darlin', you're going to have to be careful with that one. He seems like the kind who could make a huge media fuss." Hermione groaned theatrically, and Fannie laughed.

"Great." She said. Fannie twirled her wand, and the papers on her desk began to sort themselves.

"He created such a fuss that it brought Dave out of his office. He asked me to tell you that he'd like to speak with you as soon as possible. I would have come to your office and told you, but I knew you'd make your way out here anyway."

Great, Hermione thought darkly. Mr. Grenne had gotten the attention of the Department chief. Yes, today was going to be a long day. She glanced at the ornate golden clock that was placed above Fannie's desk. It was only 10:15.

Fannie laughed. She could tell what Hermione was thinking. "Maybe, if he's having a good day, he'll give you the day off. God knows you haven't had a single vacation day since you started working here."

Hermione sighed. "That may be, but I don't think it'll happen. Plus, I'm needed here."

Fannie clucked. "Darlin' you've been saying that since you started here. The work will always be here. The time to enjoy your life, that won't. If you don't catch yourself now, you'll be a workaholic. And I don't know about you, but the last thing I want to do is have to organize an intervention." Fannie's eyes twinkled, and Hermione shaked her head exasperatedly.

"Don't you worry, Fannie. When everything settles fown, I'll take time off. I promise." She motioned to the offices. "I'll go see Dave now, though, and put out some fires. God only knows what he'll say.' She chuckled quietly and started off towards the offices.

**88888888**

Dave was sitting behind is desk when Hermione entered, and he didn't look very happy. His graying black hair was slightly tousled, as if he had already began running his tense fingers through it. Hermione glanced at his face, and relaxed subtly when he gave her a tired smile.

"Hey, Dave." Hermione said. She took a seat in one of the two leather chairs that faced him. She smoothed down non-existing wrinkles in her black pencil skirt and let out a long breath.

"Good morning, Hermione. A busy day already, I see. Mr. Grenne left in quite a state." His voice was kind, yet very tired.

Hermione huffed. "I assume her told you that I was misrepresenting his wishes."

"Oh, he told me a great deal more than that. He said something along the lines of the fact that you were a 'biased bitch' who was so frigid that you were unable to realize a satyr's unique sexual situation." Dave let out a dry laugh. "Remembering past sexual offense trials involving the very same Mr. Grenne, I decided to ask for your version of the events."

Hermione let out a silent sigh of relief. So he _had _remembered that it was Mr. Grenne who had been involved with all of the messy sexual offense trials the previous year. That was good. That meant that whatever happened because of Mr. Grenne's displeasure, Dave would be in her corner. That was good.

"Yes. He wanted a legislative document that would allow satyrs, and him specifically, to be allowed complete sexual freedom with any person who, as he so eloquently put it, 'made them hot'." Hermione watched Dave's eyes to see if he got the subtle wording. He did.

His face darkened as the full implications of such a document registered in his brain. "A satyr is aroused by any individual who is of their preferred gender, and sometimes individuals of the other gender can have the same effect. A law like that would make it so that all satyrs would be allowed to have sexual freedoms with all the witches and wizards in society." Hermione nodded grimly.

"In light of that fact, Miss. Granger, I fully support your actions. I will make sure that the proper ears hear of your version of the events should this spectacle be blown into the media limelight. Hermione smiled.

"Thank you." He looked at the clock, and then turned back to her.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off? He was your only client for the day anyway, and after today, he won't be yours any longer." Hermione's inner muscles relaxed at the thought of not having to deal with Mr. Grenne any longer.

"Thank you, sir. I think I will, actually." She got up to leave. She was about to close the door when she heard Dave call out to her. Catching the door as it fell back, she turned around and met his brown eyes.

"Since you will be short one client in your roster, would you be willing to have a new one? I just received a new client who is in desperate need of a legal representative. He's a top priority, code-black client."

Hermione's eyes flashed. A code-black client? A client like that would have to be someone whom the media would recognize. Hermione's curiosity peaked, and Dave gave out a laugh, seeing the twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh, no! You are _still _taking the rest of the day off. The client will still be here tomorrow, and as it is, I will have to notify him that you've accepted his offer." He waved her out of his office.

Once in the hallway, she stopped. Who could it be? After a couple seconds, she still came up with nothing. Shaking her head slightly, she decided to let it be. All would be revealed tomorrow, anyway.

**8888888888**

The sounds of the Weasley-Potter household reached her long before she stepped into the doorway. Excited squeals could be heard from the upper floors, and the pattering of several sets of little feet as they scampered down the stairs. Opening the screen door, she entered the cacophony.

"Mom!" The black haired girl screeched excitedly from the kitchen table. "Aunt Hermione is here!" The girl leapt up from her seated and barreled into Hermione, squeezing all the breath out of her with an 'oomph'.

"Hey, Chloe! No need to kill me." Hermione laughed as the oldest of the Weasley-Potter clan glanced up at her, Chloe's six-year-old mind taking her seriously for a moment before registering the teasing light in Hermione's eyes.

"Oh Aunt Hermione! That's not funny!"

The sound of heavier footsteps could be heard creaking outside of the kitchen and Hermione glanced up at Ginny, who had a baby girl on her hip and a small boy tucked behind her left leg.

Ginny gave Hermione a warm smile. "Well this is a pleasant surprise!" She said, placing the toddler on the floor. The boy, Jason, hurried along after his mother as she hugged Hermione fiercely.

"Yeah. I was told to take the rest of the day off. It seems the people in the office have caught on to the fact that I'm supposedly a workaholic."

Ginny smiled. "Well, then give my thanks to them, because we haven't seen you in ages! Harry's at work, obviously, but he'll be home in a bit for dinner. You will stay for dinner, won't you?" Hermione looked at three pairs of pleading brown eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Well, when you put it like that….." She trailed off, smiling. The toddler, Hannah, reached her leg and hugged it, squealing with delight. Hermione looked down into green eyes and let out a breath of fierce joy. Out of all of Harry's three children, only Hannah had inherited her father's piercing green eyes. She reached down and scooped up the little one, placing her on her right hip. Hannah grabbed at her emerald top and bunched it in her tiny hands. Hermione felt her heart tighten.

This was what she had been missing, Hermione realized. The warm feeling of _home._ Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was busy making two cups of tea manually, without the use of magic, and felt a small pang of jealousy. Ginny had it all, the makings of a perfect family. The jealousy was gone quickly, but the longing lingered.

"Well!" Ginny said impatiently. "Don't just stand there in the doorway like a stranger! Have a seat!" Hermione obeyed the order and sat down in one of the already well-worn kitchen chairs.

Ginny sent the children off to play in the yard and sat down next to Hermione, handing her a steaming cup of tea.

After a few minutes of companionable silence, both women staring out the window at the children, Ginny turned towards Hermione.

"So. How are you doing, really? Harry says that when he sees you at work, you always look so tired and rushed." Ginny's brown eyes shown with concern.

Hermione gave her a small, reassuring smile. 'Well, lately I've had to deal with a particularly bothersome satyr. But after today, he is officially not my client, so things should settle down on that front."

Ginny hummed approvingly. "That's good. So work is as good as it normally is. How about the love life?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "What happened to that guy? What was his name…." Her eyebrows puckered as she tried to remember the name.

"Aaron?" Hermione offered, knowing it was the name she was looking for.

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly. "Aaron! Whatever happened to him? I heard that you guys were getting pretty serious. I mean, you never brought him over or anything…" Eyes full of accusation met her guilty ones, "But I heard that you really cared about him."

Hermione sighed. "Well…" She trailed off. "Things didn't work out." She finished lamely.

Ginny frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He just…didn't feel right. _We _didn't feel right. He asked me to move in with him," Ginny's eyebrows rose, "And I thought about it. After I started thinking about it, I realized that I didn't like Aaron." Seeing Ginny's puzzled expression, Hermione hurried to clarify. "I mean, I _liked _him, but I more so the _idea _of Aaron over his actual presence. You know?"

Ginny nodded. "I get that." She said quietly. "But sometimes, all a person needs is some company. Hermione, you need company."

Hermione looked over at her best female friend. She looked away.

"I don't _need _a man, Ginny. I'm doing perfectly fine on my own."

**88888888**

**And there it is! Chapter 1. Draco will be introduced in the next chapter, I just wanted this chapter to be more of an explanation of Hermione's life to this point and what-not. **

**I hope you liked it xD**

**Please R & R, because that's what keeps me going!**

**Sincerely, **

**TwsitedLittleAngel**


	2. You're the Client?

**A/N: Hello, everybody! Sorry about the reallyyyyy long wait, but I've been busy. I'm studying to test out of classes, working as a part time intern, and a bunck of other crap that has turned my summer into a flop, basically. BUT. I WENT TO THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER! And I absolutely loved it. So consider it research for the story, because now I have more inspiration then ever xD **

**Anyways, I hope that you enjoy this story! ….It's shaping out to be a very long muse. So hang tight, and enjoy the ride xD**

**8888888888**

Draco glanced at his face in the mirror and sighed. It was Tuesday, and today he was supposed to meet his Ministry appointed legal representative. The man who had phoned him, Dave something-or-other, had informed him that the representative he was receiving was top of the line. That was good. And, much to Draco's further delight, this representative was used to handling high profile cases.

Draco gave out a dark laugh. High profile cases. He doubted that this new representative was used to dealing with someone as in-the-media as Draco Malfoy. In recent years, the Malfoy name had been cleared, and mostly all of it was due to him. He had really turned it around after the war.

While everyone else in Slytherin had been trying to finish school after the war, he had quit Hogwarts and started a business in Diagon Alley. He had produced potions. At first, the potions shop had been slow going, but five years later, here he was. A multi-billionaire bachelor of old _and _new money. His 'little shop' had turned into an international franchise, with top of the line patented potions that had reinvented modern day potion making.

And now this. Draco let out a slow sigh. It wasn't the end of the world, really. He glanced at the shadows outlining his mirror. Well, maybe it had come close to the end.

He hoped that this representative was what he was looking for.

**8888888**

Hermione entered the office with a grim expression on her face. So far, this morning was shaping out to be truly hideous. Mr. Grenne, like she had predicted, had organized a huge media rally. They had congregated in the lobby of the Ministry with both members of the local tabloids, and even the recently organized wizard radio show. Upon her apparition into the lobby, they had instantly bombarded her with headlines, all wanting answers from the "Racist Bitch of the Golden Trio".

That was enough to make anyone more than a little irritated.

She had been able to handle it though, until Harry had arrived at the scene. He had caused such an uproar about the serious lack of security from the Ministry guards that he had had to be restrained. However, the rally was dispersed, and all the pictures that had been gleaned from the rally had been confiscated.

Dave had summoned her to his office after that, wanting to debrief her about the official release through the Daily Prophet regarding Mr. Grenne's behavior. And so now here she was, knocking on the door of Dave's office.

"Come in." Dave's muffled voice said tiredly.

Hermione entered the office, immediately sitting the same leather chair that she had vacated the previous morning. Dave looked even more tired today, if that was even possible. Hermione inwardly praised herself on rejecting the Ministry of Magic's offer of letting her head any department of her choosing. She had understood their reasoning behind it, letting the smartest witch of the age, plus one of the original 'Golden Trio', head a Ministry department. It would have been good politics. But looking at Dave's exhausted face, and the creases in his forehead that Hermione had watched manifest in the past three and a half years, she was glad that she had refrained. It would have been too much.

"Well. This morning certainly has kicked off on a bad note, hasn't it?"

Hermione gave a tired smile. "It certainly has. I understand that you have some good news though…" She let the sentence trail off, looking at Dave pointedly.

"Ah. Yes. Mrs. Fink, the chief editor of the Daily Prophet, has prepared an official release article about your side of the events regarding Mr. Grenne. This way, both the Ministry and yourself can remain clean of this mess." After a few seconds of reflection, he added, "I truly am sorry about this mess, Hermione. I wouldn't have given him to you in the first place, but you are the only one who is naturally immune to magical persuasion."

Hermione nodded. She understood, but that still didn't make the incident any sweeter. "So now that my representation for Mr. Grenne has been terminated, am I allowed to know the identity of my new client?"

"Not quite yet. I have to give you the specifics of the case for this one. Unfortunately, this client is of a particular race that hasn't been seen in the modern day wizarding world for over 200 years…" Hermione's eyebrows shot up. 200 years? What magical creature could have escaped wizarding notice for _200 _years? And who could possibly be of magical creature lineage and still have maintained a high profile? Intrigued with the facts, Hermione sat back into her seat and fixed her puzzled gave on Dave, waiting for him to continue. "…And quite frankly, I don't know if the Ministry can really contain it." He gave her a defeated smile.

Hermione just stared at him blankly as the works sunk in. A magical creature that would cause such a fuss, the Ministry of Magic would be unable to provide damage control?

"And you're giving this client to me." She said disbelievingly.

Dave nodded. "the Minister seemed to think you were up for the job. And plus, your unique talents are pivotal in this case."

"You mean my immunity to magical persuasion?"

"Yes."

"What kind of magical persuasion does this client possess?"

"We believe, from historical records of this creature, that he possesses both sexual and alpha persuasion abilities." Hermione inwardly groaned. That combination was nasty. Satyrs have sexual persuasion, but they have absolutely no authority to back it up. A creature with both sexual allure and authority…..it could get ugly.

"Alright sir." Hermione said finally. "I'll do it. When is the client scheduled to come in?"

"I believe that he was sent to your office shortly after you arrived in the building."

**8888888888**

"_You're the client?_" Hermione said furiously. She gripped the doorframe tightly, and the wood groaned underneath her fingertips, her angry magic aiding her strength.

Draco Malfoy, perched on the edge of the desk, just gave a brisk nod of his head. Straightening up, he extended his hand. Hermione ignored it and brushed past him roughly in an attempt to get to her desk. As she made accidental contact with the corner of his shoulder, she froze.

Her shoulder was touching his, and she could feel the magic pulsate through the spacious office. She closed her eyes and gave an involuntary shiver. She heard Draco give a small gasp. Opening her eyes with a snap, Hermione sharply wrenched her body away from his, and the magic faded into the background. She walked behind the desk the placed both hands facedown on the open manila folder detailing Draco Malfoy's personal information. She gave him a steady gaze.

"What the hell was that, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I don't know." He said honestly. Hermione squinted at him, trying to detect the lie on his face. She was very good at detecting false emotion, and all she saw in his chiseled face was surprise. So the magic had been a surprise to him too. That wasn't good. That either meant that the magic had been completely unrelated to his new magical status, or he was completely ignorant of his abilities. Hermione desperately hoped that it was the first. The first wouldn't be her problem. But if she had to do damage control on a high profile magical being who didn't know his limits….

She shivered. What a nightmare that would be.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy." He sat without arguing. Hermione almost smiled. He looked quite regal, sitting in the black leather chair with his dark gray suit. He had definitely filled out over the years, and his now statuesque figure looked like it was made for Armani suits. She couldn't even uses what magical being he was.

"First things first." She began. "What are you?"

He started to say something, then paused. "I think I should show you something first." Hermione raised her eyebrow. "It's nothing harmful, I assure you. But I think that you will have an easier time believing me if I show you first." He stood up again, and took off his suit jacket. He then began to unbutton his shirt.

"Mr. Malfoy—

"Don't worry. I'm not stripping in your office. I'm only taking off my shirt. Hopefully that doesn't bother you. I don't know why it would, considering that you've always protested to loathe me." He said in an amused tone. Hermione sat back in a huff. Of course she could control herself. However, as Draco removed the last vestige of his shirt, Hermione felt the seductive tendrils that were radiating off him start to envelop her immediately.

Sexual persuasion had many forms, but the most common form was a type of psychic tendril, which was an unconscious action of the owner. They were referred to by people who had no training as the "natural" attraction of a person. But Hermione knew better, and she could feel the tendrils snaking around her. Draco's were much stronger than most, but even with the added strength they could not break through her natural magical barrier.

Draco gave her his back, and Hermione looked on in amazement. On his pale flesh was a gorgeous, full back tattoo rendering of magnificent wings. They were various shades of blue hue, going all the way from dark blue violet at the shoulder blades to the light sky blue of the flight primaries. She whistled at the detail.

"That is indeed one killer tattoo." She admitted. "But I fail to see how it is relevant to your condition as a magical being."

"The wing tattoo is real." He said dryly.

Hermione blinked. "They're real?" She saw him nod. "Show me." She commanded. Hermione saw his shoulders tighten for a moment at the command in her voice, and she chided herself for forgetting that he had alpha persuasion, which meant that whatever he was, he expected to be the leader. You never try to dominate an alpha. After a moment she saw his shoulders relax, and his back began to morph.

The wings came out slowly, almost gracefully unfolding from the tattoo on his back. They did not seem to inflict pain as they were ejected, because through it all Draco made not one sound. Once out, they spanned what Hermione imagined to be 16 feet across, because her office was 18 feet wide, and the sky blue tips of the wings almost touched the walls.

"They're beautiful." Hermione said frankly.

Draco slowly folded them wings into a semi-upright resting position and rotated to face her. Hermione gasped again. His eyes had changed. Instead of their normal steely gray, they now were a rolling, stormy gray-blue. She looked closer, and was startled to find tiny flashes, as if a real storm was erupting in his irises.

"Thank you." He said. His voice dripped with authority and sex, and Hermione stopped breathing. The power in his voice caused cracks even in her tolerance. Draco Malfoy was a powerful son of a bitch. Whatever he was.

"Can you sit?" She asked carefully. Not in a groveling tone, but in a careful one.

"Only on the stool." He walked over to the stool resting in the corner and sat, gazing at her disconcertingly with the stormy eyes.

"What are you?"

"I am the last in a once great race called the Arkkien."

**8888888888**

**A/N: And there's chapter 2. I wanted to make the history of the Arrkien race it's own chapter, so I will be updating the next installment fairly soon. (I hope.) How you all are having a nice summer!**

**Please review, because it's what keeps me going!**


	3. Existing Just Fine

**A/N: Hello, everybody! This story is taking a very long time to get off the ground, and I apologize for that. Normally my stories are fast-paced from the get go, but this one is taking it's sweet time, for some reason. Hopefully this chapter will start the ball rolling.**

**I hope you all have a wing fetish, because I've always thought that wings on a person would be incredibly sexy. For the bulk of the story, Draco's wings with be out.**

**Disclaimer: I only own the Arkkien. **

**Warnings: Eventual explicit content. Possible language. **

**88888**

Hermione sat back in her chair. The Arkkien. She'd only heard one story about them, and the story was a myth. Less than a myth, actually. More like a mini-myth.

"I've only heard one story about the Arkkien." She said quietly.

Draco nodded. "Only one of our stories has withstood time. It's the one where we're depicted as angels."

"Yes." Hermione breathed. "The Arkkien were treated by the wizarding population as gods, of a sort. They were revered and loved. Almost a sort of hero-worship. They lived in a man-made eyrie tower, and they were the ruling power over the wizarding world. They were highly sexual beings, who could command a person just by their sexual allure and alpha voice. But they don't exist." She said the last belligerently, as if willing the magnificent wings to be something else, anything else. If the Arkkien truly had resurfaced as a race, then the wizarding world was in trouble. The Arkkien were unstoppably powerful. Once their magical reached it's prime, they had the abilities of telekiniesis, telepathy, and an unstoppable allure. Not to mention their natural strength, which the myth had claimed to be strong enough to lift a car with each hand. Yes, they would not be a good race to reintroduce into society.

"I seem to be existing just fine." Draco flexed his wings in emphasis, and Hermione's eyes dilated as she watched them. She let out an inaudible gasp, and Draco's nostrils flared in response.

He made a move to get up, and Hermione shook her head, coming back to herself. That wasn't possible. When had Draco's sexual tendrils broken through her defenses? And how could she not have felt them shatter?

"I thought your supervisor gave my case to yours because you were naturally immune to all magical persuasion…" Draco said, his expression mildly amused.

"I am!" Hermione said. But even she could tell that it was now a lie.

"You seem to still react to my wings like any other female in the world. Interesting." Draco flexed his wings again, and Hermione let out a soft gasp.

Draco chuckled.

"You'll have to excuse me, Miss Granger. I am still not used to the….peculiar effect….I now have on females." Draco stood up, and stalked towards the desk, his expression predatory. "I am not familiar with my new powers, and you're reaction...is very intriguing."

He now was reaching the edge of her desk. Hermione remained silent, her gaze now fixated on his eyes. The storms inside his irises were growing, and Hermione felt her body hum at attention.

"If I knew any better, I'd think that my reaction to your reaction means something different than the other females."

At this, a part of Hermione's intelligence came back, and she gave him a questioning look. "And why is this time different?" She said, her voice still slightly breathly.

"Because, Miss Granger, your arousal is making me aroused. In a normal situation, I would merely be the controller of the sexual allure, and the recipient would be the only one affected. But this is new. Your arousal is just heightening my own."

Hermione fell deeper and deeper into the allure with every word he rumbled. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that this wasn't right. She shouldn't be letting him walk around the edge of her desk. She shouldn't be letting him touch her hips, and maneuver her on to the desk. She most definitely shouldn't let him spread her legs, and stand in between her pulsing thighs.

"Hermione." He rumbled. His voice held the echo of thunder. Hermione shivered involuntarily.

"Draco." She said softly. Her brain had vacated. At that moment, all she could focus one was Draco's eyes, which were causing little lightning shock reactions in her lower regions. He wings rippled at the way she said his name.

In Draco's mind, he knew that something wasn't normal. He shouldn't be reacting like this, and Hermione most definitely shouldn't be affected. She was supposed to be immune. For that matter, He was supposed to be immune. But one look in her eyes, and the deep, baser instincts of his Arkkien self growled with the need. The need to claim her.

Draco leaned down and tasted her lips.

Hermione was in shock. Draco's mouth tasted like storms. With her eyes shut, she could almost taste the electrical currents. A girl could get addicted to that taste, she thought idly. And then all the powers of thought were lost to her as she succumbed to Draco's overbearing dominance.

After a few seconds, Draco's hands trailed up from her waist, causing little crackles against her skin. Hermione wouldn't have been surprised to see little lightning sparks traveling up her skin. When they reached her breasts, Hermione couldn't hold back the unadulterated moan that burst from her lips.

Draco almost melted at the sound of Hermione's pleasure. The rational part of his brain, growing smaller with each passing second, still whispered in his ear. This isn't normal, it said. You're not supposed to be so caught up in passion with another person that your sky magic actually touches her skin…..

For it was true. What Hermione had felt as actual lightning sparks were, in fact, lightning sparks. They were a white-tinged blue, and they crackled against his skin, scorching everything they touched….except for Hermione.

Draco's eyes opened. Why wasn't she writhing on the floor in pain? The lightning sparks of the Arkkien were deadly to humans. That was why to be an Arkkien's human lover was a death warrant. They couldn't withstand the sexual sparks that were emitted when an Arkkien was truly aroused. Why wasn't Hermione burning?

With that thought, Draco came back to himself. And he realized that his hands had already made short work of her top, and Hermione was now completely open from the head down. Her breasts were heaving in pleasure.

Draco abruptly broke the kiss, and stared at her in shock. What was happening to him? He had been about to literally fuck her into the table. And she would have let him. Would still let him, given the lust-filled look on her face.

Hermione gave a frustrated whine, and Draco's control was tested. But he held on, and abruptly backed up a step. And he gave out a noise.

What the hell was that? He thought. His body, which until now had been in an extreme state of arousal, was now screaming in protest to be brought closer to Hermione's warmth again. That was not a normal reaction.

Hermione's senses slowly came back to her as Draco stayed one whole step away from the desk. She looked down at her bared breasts and blushed heavily. What had just happened?

As she was hastily buttoning up her blouse again, she looked at Draco with accusatory questions in her eyes. But to her surprise, he looked just as befuddled as she was.

"What was that, Mr. Malfoy?" She said, her tone dripping with ice.

"I don't know." He said honestly. "No human has ever been able to affect me like you just did. I even let my powers loose, and by all the normal standards, you should be writhing on the floor in pain right now. They are deadly to all humans."

Hermione looked at him blankly. "What powers?"

"My lightning. Each Arkkien has the power to manifest one of the elements, and my elements is storms. I manifested lightning in my hands, and stroked your skin with it. You should be dead."

"Did you do that on PURPOSE?" She said, her voice incredulous. Those shocking sensations had been REAL?

"Of course not. I don't want to kill you. Even know, I'm trying to not jump on you again. My Arkkien side seems to want you, badly."

Hermione swallowed hard at this unusual turn of events.

"In all the Arkkien legends I've been told from my heritage books, that sensation only means one thing." Draco said.

Hermione gave him a look. No. He was not serious.

"You must be my mate."

**8888**

**Oh, my. Hermione got lucky, didn't she? A mate as sexy as Draco Malfoy, with lightning sparks? Hell yes, in my opinion. But what will Hermione do with this news, I wonder?**

**Review with your comments! I know this chapter covered a lot of ground in the plot building, but it will all fall into place at a more realistic pace in the next chapter. **

**Sincerely, **

**TLA**


	4. Running

**A/N: And I'm back! I hope that you all are happier with the quicker update schedule. I've found some solid blocks of time lately, and I've found myself just writing new chapters to my stories. It's like a form of calm-therapy. **

**Anyway- the story is definitely rolling now. I'd like to thank all the readers that stuck through 3 chapters of snail-pace plot, but your wait is over. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the situation.**

**Warnings: Eventual explicit content. **

**8888888**

Hermione was running.

Not literally—she was actually on the Knight Bus. But in essence, she was running. After the meeting with Malfoy the previous day, she had fled from the room, all semblance of maturity gone with the frightening word 'mate' ringing through her head.

There was no way she was Draco's mate. It wasn't possible. Hermione Granger was not the mate of _anything, _much less the mate of one of the most dominant creatures in the wizarding world. The very word suggested subservience—and there was nothing Hermione loathed more than the feeling of being _less_.

So she was running. Draco had let her run, making not one move to stop her hasty escape from the offices. She had fled to her home, where she had abruptly packed her bags and contacted the Knight Bus. And then she had disappeared.

She had left a note for Harry and Ron, knowing that they would come looking. It didn't say why she was leaving, just that she had felt the urge to travel for the first time since the war had ended. In the end, she thought they would believe her. They had both taken a brief hiatus from the real world after the war, but Hermione had rejected their offer of accompanying them. She had thrust herself directly into the Ministry, where she had felt her help was needed. She hoped that Harry and Ron would just take her note at face value, and not look into it.

To Dave, she simply wrote a letter detailing her unexpected plans to tour the world, taking her several year's worth of paid vacation time and using them. He would be grateful for her break, sure that she was just letting herself relax.

Only one person would know why she was running. Draco Malfoy would know. He had known, she thought cynically, that she would run. He had seen the look of terror on her face when he had mentioned the word mate.

He hadn't stopped her, though.

Hermione scrunched up her forehead. That was the only thing that didn't make any sense. Malfoy _had _to have known that she would leave. Why hadn't he at least asked her where she planned to go? She hoped he didn't plan on following her.

Shivering at the thought, Hermione looked out the window of the speeding bus. They were almost to the edge of London.

Really—Hermione had been on the Knight Bus to gather her thoughts. She hadn't wanted to rush off into an Apparition with only a vague idea of where she wanted to go, but now she was sure.

It was time she finally visited America.

**8888888**

Draco sat at the foot of the staircase in the Malfoy Manor and put his head in his hands. His wings, unfurled in the privacy of his own home, cascaded behind his back, the ends coming into contact with the stairs behind him. He flexed them slightly in agitation.

His mate didn't want him.

The Arkkien in him snarled with pain. To lose a mate was torturous to any Arkkien, much less one who could command the storms. A storm Arkkien could control the weather with their mood, and an Arkkien without a mate was unpredictable, and often suicidal. In the old times, when Arkkien had still roamed the wizarding world, one of the storm Arkkien had lost his mate in a rock slide. He had been unable to reach her in time, and because her element was the air, her powers were suffocated, and she died. His suicidal anguish had caused devastating lightning storms, and storms that rivaled the apocalypse. The poor man had eventually died.

For an Arkkien could not live without their mates for long. While they were almost unequaled in power and raw strength, and Arkkien was very weak when it came to their mates. The mate bond was intrinsic to the Arkkien's mental and physical well-being. The mate bond was what kept the Arkkien's emotions in check, and balanced out their power with their very presence.

And his mate had rejected him.

With his eyes closed against the backs of his hands, he could still see her horrified eyes when he had made the observation.

What would have happened if he hadn't mentioned it? Would she have reacted differently?

He thought about it. No. Hermione Granger would have reacted the same. And it was understandable…to the human portion of his brain.

In the Arkkien culture, a mate was a prized possession. To have a mate was to have peace and happiness, and the means to being immensely powerful. For that reason, the story that had been passed down through the wizard culture had been the one about Rafael and Eponime.

In the story, Rafael, one of the cruelest members of the Arkkien, had been so drunk with the power he had gained from his mating with the human Eponime, he became insane with covetous jealousy. He forbade his mate to leave their eyrie, and as the time wore on, she was restricted one thing after the other, until eventually the only thing she was allowed to do was go out into the garden in the afternoons to read.

But one day, Rafael decided to watch his mate read in the garden. He discovered that his mate had been meeting with a human male on the side. Not a sexual affair, but the male came up to the garden to tell Eponime about the outside world. Rafael, insane with rage, refused to believe Eponime, and killed the male. Eponime was then placed with lock and key in the house, and was never let out again.

That story had ceased to become an Arkkien legend over time, and had instead become a tale regarded by the wizarding population as a moral tale about jealousy. Rafael, who had existed, had been so mentally instable; the Arkkien had been forced to put him down. However—they failed to do so before the wizarding population had gotten wind of it.

So it was no surprise that Hermione was running away. If the circumstances were reversed, Draco was sure he would have done the same.

But the rationality behind it did nothing for his Arkkien side, which was screaming at him to fly, find her, and bring her back to his home. If Draco had been full-blooded Arkkien, he probably would have done so. But his father had been half Veela, so Draco managed to suppress the need to find her immediately.

Besides. If he ever wanted her to let him near her, he needed to take it slow.

Draco flexed his right wing towards the front of his body and felt his wing feathers. Reaching down to the tip, he looked in sad acceptance at the gray tinge at the end of his sky blue primary at the tip of his wing.

He needed to get her to accept their mating bond before it killed them both.

**888888**

**A/N: Well there we are…..we find out that both of them will be affected by Hermione's refusal to accept the mating bond. Will she accept him before his wings turn all gray?**

**Review and I'll update so you all can find out!**

**Sincerely,**

**TLA**


	5. Draco's Had Enough

**A/N: And here is Chapter 5! Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I'm really glad to here that you guys liked the story idea. I actually started thinking about it a couple years ago….but it never seemed quite right until I realized that it would make a perfect HGDM story. **

**But anyway—**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I only own the Arkkien**

**Warnings: I will post these when I feel that they are going to become applicable. **

**88888888**

Hermione stepped off the bus and looked around, a bit surprised. Everything looked so…off. It wasn't as dramatic as all the travel books made it sound, but the somewhat normal landscape had a different edge to it than Britain. It was somewhat disconcerting to hear so many American accents in one place.

"Hey, are you lost?" A female voice asked politely from behind her.

Hermione turned, and was met with the sight of a very strange woman. She had fire engine red hair, and it was cut in a short pixie cut that framed her small, angular face. Her eyes were a fierce green, and Hermione was struck by their wry intelligence. "I'm not quite sure, actually." She admitted sheepishly.

The woman gave a grin. "I thought you were British." She said, satisfied. Hermione gave her an inquisitive look. "You have the British look about you. I don't know why, but all the tourists and recent immigrants from that part of Europe always seem to look around with a befuddled expression. It's almost like they've expected something alien, and instead they find out that yes, we're normal, we're sane, and we have brash accents."

The matter of fact tone that the woman used made Hermione smile. She liked her. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name. I'm Hermione Granger." She extended her hand, then realized that her map of Michigan was in it. Blushing, she transferred it to her left hand.

"My name's Zoe. Nice to meet you. You kind of got off at an odd place for tourists….are you here to visit relatives?" Her gaze wasn't prying, but Hermione could tell that the woman was interested. Hermione didn't blame her. She'd be interested if this fiery bombshell showed up in Diagon Alley, too.

"No, I'm not actually. I decided to leave London yesterday, and I came to Grand Rapids because it was the first town in America that I thought of." Zoe gave her an odd look.

"Grand Rapids isn't exactly New York City."

"I know," Hermione said quickly, "but I have a friend who is very interested in art, and she'd heard of this new competition called Art Prize—

"Ohhh!" Zoe said, her face lighting up. "Gotcha. Art Prize is amazing. It's actually in a couple weeks. Did you come to GR to see the exhibits?"

"No. I just….up and left." Zoe gave her an odd look, but kept silent at the drawn look on Hermione's face.

Aware of the awkward silence that ensued, Hermione gazed around at her surroundings. They were standing outside of a huge bookstore, and by the look of the numerous bookshelves inside, Hermione could tell it was a national chain.

"Where exactly are we? I didn't really pay attention to the bus. I was in such a hurry to stretch my legs, I just got off."

Zoe laughed. "You seem to do that a lot lately, this get-up-and-leave thing. Hey listen, do you want to catch a coffee inside? This place has Starbucks coffee. Have you ever had it?" Hermione shook her head. Zoe looked appalled. "Well that settles it, then. First stop is the coffee shop. Then we can talk about where you're off too. I take it you've found a hotel someplace, due to your lack of baggage…" Zoe looked at Hermione's small shoulder purse.

She missed absolutely nothing, Hermione thought wryly. No wonder she liked her. In actuality, Hermione had not found a hotel. All of her bags had been shrunk to size and stuffed in her purse. But Zoe didn't need to know that.

"Yeah, I did." Hermione said vaguely. She started towards the store, and Zoe didn't press Hermione for the name. Thank God, thought Hermione, because she didn't know any American hotel chains.

The two young women quickly found themselves bonding over coffee. Zoe, like Hermione, was a devout bookaholic. Hermione was glad that she had stayed with the current muggle fiction writers, because to her intense delight, Zoe liked the same genres and stories that Hermione did.

Two coffees later, the women began to meander their way through the bookshelves. "I've always found the smell of new books to be comforting." Zoe said suddenly.

"I agree." Hermione said, he body fully relaxed from the warm latte. "However, old books also have their good smells." Zoe nodded. She grabbed a book with a purple spine and read the back. Two seconds later, she slammed it back onto the shelf in disgust.

"Of course." At this outburst, Hermione looked at her oddly.

"What?" She asked, surprised.

"It was just a typical story. Girl is emotional after break-up trauma. Goes through several months of pain, and then when you're shown the light at the end of the tunnel, the book ends." Zoe rolled her eyes in disgust. Hermione watched her with amusement. She was a 23-or-something year old woman, and her opinions were already as fully fleshed out as the average 30-something confident woman. Hermione admired her.

"I don't enjoy those stories either. My theory is—if I wanted to feel sad, I'd just think about my own problems. I don't need anybody else's problems added on to my own."

Zoe nodded. The women spent the next two hours in the bookstore, arguing and agreein g in turn about anything and everything under the sun.

After they had made their way to the entrance again, Zoe turned to Hermione.

"I haven't lost track of time like that in long time. Would you like to stay with me during your travels? I know it's rather sudden, and you're probably wondering if I'm completely sane. I assure you, I am. I just have an apartment, but it's big enough, and I've got a guest room. I don't normally do this, but I just had the feeling that you're in need of somewhere to be." She gave Hermione a knowing look. Hermione doubted she'd accurately assessed her situation, but seeing as Hermione couldn't tell her, she let it go. Hermione, who normally was a more cautious woman, found herself accepting before she'd even given time to think about it.

"Yes, I'd love that."

"Great!...I hope you like cats."

Hermione just grinned.

**888888888**

Draco was falling apart. It had been three days since the incident in the office with Hermione, and already his Arkkien side was crumbling. London had had three days of storms, and even though they had been mild, the forecast had predicted sunny skies. The fact that his magic was already causing lightning storms was a bad sign.

He needed to find Hermione.

As an Arkkien, his soul could feel her, instinctively being able to feel her emotions. It was a skill that had helped the Arkkien race acclimate to their often human mates. The Arkkien were usually unused to human emotions and feelings, and in order to survive, they had had to been able to tell what their mates were feeling.

While it was surely a useful tool to a happily mated Arkkien, it was hell on Draco. He could sense his mate's happiness, and it was slowly killing him.

Hermione was safe and happy, he knew that much. But she wasn't in London. In fact, Draco wasn't even sure she was still in England. The Arkkien could sense most of the life forms around them, but only to a point. Draco could only feel out the people near him. He had no idea where she was.

She had seemed educated on the Arkkien, he thought desperately. Surely she was just figuring out her feelings.

But Draco knew that wasn't the case.

Hermione was perfectly content, wherever she was. She wasn't having any conflicts in her emotions. Which was making Draco nervous. He hadn't chased her, because he knew if he pursued her, he wouldn't be able to talk to her. She run, like any animal that was chased. The flight instinct takes over.

He thought he'd give her space. But he had, and she was still gone.

But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't go find her and force the mating. The mating had to be willing. Which hadn't been a problem 200 years ago, when the Arkkien had been treated like Gods in the wizarding world. But Hermione would be different.

In school, you had had to win Hermione over. If you had wanted her approval, you had had to show her you were worth it.

Draco sighed.

He was going to have to woo her.

**8888888**

**Well now Hermione's got a friend. I thought that it'd be more natural for her to have found a person to be around and live with, because she is going to be in America for some time. **

**And it looks like Draco will be joining her….. possibilites. **

**Review with your comments/concerns/questions!**

**I will respond to all questions. **

**In answer to some of your comments on the length of the chapters, I always have shorter chapters. I like to concentrate the story in smaller doses, because I don't have a ton of free time, and if I don't write the chapter all in one go, the longer installments have a fragmented feel to them. But don't worry—the important encounters will have longer chapters. But for plot builders (like this one), I like smaller installments. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**TLA**


	6. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, WOMAN?

**A/N: I'm back : ) ….ugh for those of you that deal with the Microsoft software company, I hope you sympathize with me in their 'autocorrect' features. It means that whenever I go to make a smiling face, it makes a real one. Which doesn't transfer over into Fanfiction. So that's why my smiley faces have that demented gap in them.**

**Sorry- I get bugged about the little things. OCD? Just a little. **

**Anyway- I hope you all like this chapter. It's short, I know, but I want to space it out. The next chapters will be much longer, guaranteed. I have a lot of chapters planned out, but they need a lot of baby chapters to get to the right spot in the plot. I hope you writers understand what I mean. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the Arkkien. **

**Warnings: Eh, nothing worth mentioning in this one, so you all can be surprised : )**

**888888888**

Hermione sat back in the large brown leather loveseat and sighed, content. She sipped on her coffee and marveled at how one could become addicted to the bitter liquid. Since moving in with Zoe, she'd felt compelled to drink it every morning.

Zoe. Who'd have thought she'd have been so like herself? It was scary. Hermione had met her only three days ago at the bookstore, and already they'd discovered that there was little they disagreed about. They loved the same books (Jane Austen, but Jennifer Crusie for days that weren't so deep), the same movies (Tim Burton and Johnny Depp were gods), and the same foods (mint chocolate chip ice cream). They were practically twins.

The apartment that Zoe rented out was nice, with dark furnishings and mocha walls. Books were strewn everywhere, and Zoe's cat, Sebastian, prowled around. Hermione felt a pang whenever she looked at him, because he looked just like her old cat, Crookshanks. Poor old Crookshanks. He had died four years ago, and Hermione still missed him.

"So," Zoe said, plopping down on the matching brown leather couch next to Hermione. "How are you finding America?"

Hermione smiled. "It's not as odd as I thought it'd be, to be honest. Same world, really. Once you get past the differences in habit and so on, people are people, no matter where they are."

"How wise." Zoe said, laughter in her voice.

"Hermione gave her a mock glare. "Don't laugh! I wasn't trying to come off as overly sage-like. It just….came out that way."

"Mmhmm." Zoe said, sipping on her coffee. Her tone was teasing.

The two women sat in companionable silence, broken only by the sound of Sebastian purring on the rug by Zoe's feet. He was stretched out, belly to the air, soaking up the sun rays from the balcony window.

"Hermione?" Zoe asked tentatively.

"Yes?" Hermione said, her mind still on Crookshanks.

"Would you mind if I asked you a more personal question?"

Hermione's sharp gaze met Zoe's brown eyes. "Sure." She said cautiously.

"Don't worry, it's not anything _bad, _per se. I just was wondering….. Why _are _you here?"

Hermione sighed and turned towards the window. She knew that Zoe was going to ask her that question. In fact, she applauded the woman for waiting as long as she had before asking. The problem was, Hermione had no idea how to tell her. 'Well, it goes like this: I've got a guy back in England who is this ancient magical being who controls the storms and has these gorgeous blue wings, and he thinks I'm his mate, so he wants me to live with him and play housewife for his sexy ass'.

Yes, that'd go over _so _well.

"Well," Hermione began hesitantly. "I left someone behind in England."

Zoe's eyes widened. "Please don't tell me you left some poor man at the altar or something." Hermione almost laughed at the horror in her voice.

"No no no! Of course not. I wouldn't do that to a guy. If I didn't like him, I wouldn't have said yes. And if I did like him, I certainly wouldn't have gotten cold feet." Hermione's smile died on her face as she realized something.

She _had _left a guy at the altar. Not the marriage altar, to be sure, but wasn't a mating the same thing to the Arkkien?

Oh, shit.

**8888888888**

Draco Malfoy got off the plane and sighed. Even though he could have flown, he would have been completely wiped out for at least a day, and he wanted to find Hermione as quick as possible.

It had taken him three days to discover where she had gone. Not being one of her closest friends, he hadn't been able to ask any of her aquaintances directly. And her work colleagues had had no idea.

So he had had to resort to trickery. Using his Arkkien sexual tendrils, he had lured Ginny Weasley into the bookshop in Diagon Alley. Knowing Harry would've killed him, he didnit take advantage of her. He just got her complacent enough to tell him where Hermione had gone. After gleaning the words 'Grand Rapids' out of her lips, he'd obliviated the memory.

Then he'd had to go home and find out where the hell Grand Rapids was.

But now he was here, and he could sense her. Stepping off the plane, his Arkkien side immediately relaxed. He could sense her, and she was doing well. She was content, she was happy, and—more to his Arkkien side's liking—within reach.

He knew it wasn't rational, he knew it probably was the wrong thing to do, but he couldn't help it.

He started off towards the source of Hermione's feelings.

**888888888**

"So basically, you left a completely hot, sexy piece of man flesh behind in England because you had commitment issues." Zoe said, her tone displaying that she was trying very hard to see the good side.

Hermione sighed. When taking out the magical being part of the equation, she'd hit the nail on the head. "Yeah."

"I just have one question." Zoe said, her voice devoid of all emotion. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, WOMAN?"

**8888888888**

**A/N: Well, I hoped you all liked that one : )**

**Draco and Hermione are now placed in the right position to meet for the second time…let's see if their second meeting is any more—productive—than their first xD.**

**Please review with your comments/concerns/questions!**

**Your feedback is what assures me that you're really reading my work : )**

**Thanks, **

**TLA**


	7. Accusations

**A/N: And here is Chapter 7!**

**For those of you who have me on Story Alerts: I am going to be having a longer time period between updates (please don't groan…) but that is because I am trying to accommodate you all by writing slightly longer, more in depth chapters. I hope that this style works better for everyone involved. **

**Also- if you want to know the current status of the upcoming chapters for the Arkkien, please check out my profile page. In the Bio section, I've started updating a portion at the bottom regularly that states the status of the updates (i.e. just begun, in the middle, almost completed, on hiatus (heaven forbid, right? ; ) ) So that all of you are on the same page with me. **

**Please let me know whether this method is an improvement for you, or not. **

**Anyways, I hope you all like the 7th installment…..**

**Enjoy!**

**888888888**

Draco Malfoy was having hard time reigning in his emotions. The skies were a dark, worrying shade of steel gray, and the clouds rumbled in the far off distance. It had been that way for several hours now, but he couldn't help it.

He had no idea how to go about this.

Flying high amidst the darkening clouds (with a disillusionment charm placed on himself for the Muggle population), he gazed down at the apartment complex in frustration. How was one supposed to confront a person who has flown across the globe to escape from you? He had contemplated this question for the past three hours, and since then, he had failed to move from his circling spot high amidst the clouds.

At least his Arkkien side had calmed down a bit. Since it knew, instinctively, that Draco would soon confront his mate, it was willing to bask in the nearby sense of her happiness. It was only mildly irritated that the cause of the happiness was not he. But, the rougher side of him could ignore that.

Draco felt a dull ache in his wings, beginning at the joint by his shoulder blades, and felt it slowly extend to the edges of his wingspan. He was going to have to land soon. And when he did, he was going to have to confront Hermione. But what was the best way to go about doing that? He couldn't exactly barge in on her and fling her over his shoulder…

His Arkkien side growled in appreciation. Well, maybe when she was more willing…

But no. He was going to have to play this the right way. He had seen Hermione interact with other people. She was reasonable. She wasn't overly shy or timid. If he brought about the problem in a non-threatening manner, she'd accept. Right?

At his inner turmoil, the sky started to rumble with more fervor. Shit. He looked at the clouds. Sometimes, it was cool to have control over the storms and sky. Other times—he looked at the impending storm on the horizon, one that was mirrored in his steel eyes—it sucked. He hadn't exactly had a manual depicting how to regulate his emotions. The storm power was not a common Arkkien power manifestation, and therefore he had been left on his own to figure out exactly how to manipulate his emotions.

His thoughts drifted to Hermione. Maybe….

Yes. He knew how he was going to phrase his problem. Smiling, Draco shifted his blue wings and began to prep for his spiraling descent.

**888888888**

Hermione was watching the television when the door thumped. She looked at the door in curiosity. Who could it be? Zoe had told her not to ever expect anyone, because she didn't have many friends in Grand Rapids.

The door knocked again. Outside, the impending storm began to make small rumbles, a teaser for the thunder that was no doubt going to appear in the near future. Hermione sighed and got up from the comfy couch.

The person knocked a third time.

"I'm coming!" Hermione said, slightly irritated.

The knocking abruptly ceased. She reached for the door handle, opening the door to Draco Malfoy. She gasped. She made a move to shut the door out of reflex, but he hastily stuck his foot in the door, effectively jamming it.

"Please." He said, his voice soft. Hermione, who had been nervously glancing at his intruding toe, looked up at the soft tone. He eyes, a vulnerable steel gray, were soft around the edges. Draco Malfoy looked defeated. His eyes had bags under them, and his hair was mussed around his forehead. He looked tired. "I just want to talk."

Hermione sighed. "Alright." She made a motion for him to come inside, but he shook his head.

"Outside?" He asked, his eyes watching the emotions running in hers. Draco's Arkkien half was avidly sizing her up, monitoring her emotions, and physically checking up on how she was. She looked good. Happy, even.

"Are you crazy? It's going to storm…" Hermione said, looking worriedly at the clouds from the window in the adjacent living room.

"It's me. I'm sorry—I can't seem to help it right now. That's why I was hoping we could do this outside. I think I have a better chance at controlling it if we're closer."

"Oh. Alright, then." Shit. She'd forgotten about the storms problem. Not only was he a magical being, he was also a man who had the ability to strike down lightning whenever and wherever he chose. Right.

They left the apartment building in silence, the tension thick in the air. Draco led the way to a wooded section by the edge of the parking lot, where there was a park bench placed back within the tree cover, nicely cocooned away from the windows of the apartment building. The sky had turned a frightening shade of gray.

Hermione reached the black wire bench and sat down, looking at Draco hesitantly. She knew, deep down, that over half of the current problem was her fault. She knew she had acted rash.

He began to pace in the grassy space in front of her. Watching him nervously, Hermione decided to break the silence.

"Draco?" She asked, her voice timid. His head whipped around to meet her gaze, his eyes hungry. She jolted, taken aback by the deep need in those eyes. In that instant, she understood something that she had only guessed at previously. Draco Malfoy's Arkkien side was a separate, deeper entity of his being. Staring into his flickering silver eyes, Hermione felt the pain that his insides were no doubt giving him. "I'm sorry." She said quietly.

"Please don't apologize." He said, his voice rough. He couldn't take the tone in her voice. It sounding like she thought it was her fault. His Arkkien instincts pulsed through his body, urging him to fix the emotional distress that was peeling off her in waves. "It's not your fault. I reacted badly. I thought you'd take it differently."

Hermione looked at his pained expression, and she knew that he was suffering deeper than what she was seeing. The sky continued to grow darker. Pretending not to notice the deepening color of the sky, she got up from her position on the bench.

"How was I supposed to take it?" She said, her voice hiding an edge of something that he could not identify.

"I thought you'd be happier about it."

Hermione's face darkened. "Why would I be magically happy about finding myself metaphysically attached to a man whom I had been ridiculed by for my entire childhood existence? Why, of course I would feel the need to prostate myself on the ground at your feet, I'd be so happy! Was that the reaction you were going for?" Her eyes, normally a chocolate brown, deepened in her growing indignation.

Draco's Arkkien side flared to life, its deeper instincts warring with the need to sooth her burgeoning temper, and rebuke her accusations on their mating bond. The sky darkened further, and the rumbles of thunder grew closer.

"Well, I would have thought that the brightest witch of her age would realize when a man has changed!" He retorted. His human side, petty in its nature, tried to save his reputation.

"Changed? As far as I knew, you were almost the same man. Granted, you had wings. Because of those, you were a little more refined. You knew you had to be to get me to help you. But then—

He broke her off before she could continue her tirade. "A little more refined? Who do you think I am? I'm not some school boy anymore, trying to impress the headmistress. I was an adult, asking you for help." His Arkkien side was roiling inside of his skin, and the wings that were trapped in his back were starting to burn. How dare she twist the situation.

"Asking me for help? That's all you did? The minute I accidentally brushed up against you, you claimed I was your mate, bound to you for all eternity. Your psychic tendrils pierced what was supposed to be my impenetrable immunity, and you almost convinced me to ravish you in my public office. _Excuse me _for not falling at your feet in gratitude!"

Draco opened his mouth to rebuke her claims, but her words caught up to him. She was speaking the truth. Trying a different tactic, he replied, "You still shouldn't have run away."

Hermione, who had begun to softly pace, whipped around to meet his stormy gaze again. Ignoring the flashes of lightning that were beginning to appear around the edges of the trees, she hissed at him, "I was scared. You were this…" She gestured wildly at the dark sky with scattered lightning, "…this wild, elemental being that claimed power over the fucking storms! What was I supposed to think. Your touch gave me actual electric shocks—of which I felt nothing—and I couldn't seem to think straight. I had no other option."

Draco turned his face away from her. She watched him cautiously, unsure of what he was planning to do. "You could have turned to me." He said quietly.

Hermione stopped in her tracks and sighed. "Draco."

He turned and looked at her, his expression still wary. When she made no move to towards him, he cautiously walked closer to her. The wind, which had been steadily increasing, died down slightly. Hermione hair tangled slightly in the wind, as if the wind was caressing its tendrils. "I'm sorry."

He gave her a weary look, and turned away from her, beginning to unbutton his crisp white shirt. His slipped it off of his back, revealing the gorgeous tattoo that adorned his pale muscles. The wind picked up its intensity, and it began to rain. The thunder and lightning, which until now had been in the distance, came in with a fury, lighting the sky with vicious sparks. Draco let his wings fall out, unfurling them with dexterity, given the voracious wind.

"Draco!" Hermione yelled to be heard over the storm, "What are you doing?" She moved closer to him, but he backed away from her, leaving her alone.

"I can't stand this, Hermione. I won't have you refusing me based on facts that don't even describe who I am." His eyes were a startling shade of deep blue, and without knowing why, Hermione began to cry.

"Draco, please!" She cried.

He looked at her, his Arkkien side screaming at him to stop this, stop making her hurt. But he had to. He had to make her admit that she at least felt something, anything, for him. He knew she did. The feelings that he had felt from her during those moments in her office were still there. He had to push them out.

"Please what, Hermione? Please stay, so you can continue to ignore that this situation isn't going away? Because it's not. I can't just make this bond go away. I can't make you love me, hell, I can't even make you like me."

"Please don't leave." She said weakly. She had no reply to his tirade. She had no reasons with which to prove him wrong. He was right.

Draco's Arkkien side won, and he hurriedly moved to where she stood, a wilted figure in the storm. The wind died down, and the lightning began to dim. He folded his arms around her, and she shook with sobs. His blue wings folded around them both, cocooning them from the storm of his own creation.

**888888888**

**A/N: And so that was (hopefully) a longer chapter for you to enjoy. I loved writing it. The next chapter, however, has one of my favorite scenes in it, so please stay tuned : )**

**Please review, because it let's me know you're there!**

**TLA**


	8. Kiss and A Smack

**A/N: Hey everyone, here is Chapter 8!**

**I would like to clear up a subject that I thought was a relatively minor issue, but apparently is larger than I thought. The Arkkien are not—in any way, shape, or form—related to Veela. **

**Draco has no Veela tendencies. In the 7 books, there is no mention of the Malfoy's having Veela blood (and if there is, I'm ignoring those statements.) For the intents and purposes of The Arkkien, Draco has no Veela blood in him. **

**I know a lot of you have commented on how you like the difference, but I thought I'd just clear it up anyway, because I know I wasn't very clear. **

**I hope you all enjoy The Arkkien. **

**888888888**

The storm had dissipated, the rain tapering off into a mist as Draco held Hermione in his arms. She was shivering slightly, but he couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the confusion, guilt and sadness radiating off of her in waves. He stroked her wet hair with his hand, trying to sooth her.

His Arkkien side was purring, content that its mate was being sheltered by their wings. After the days of emotional and mental torment, it was content to just hold her.

"Draco." She said, her voice muffed by his skin.

"Yes?" He said, basking in the moment.

"Get your wings off of me."

His wings snapped back immediately. He looked down at her in confusion, wondering what this strange woman was going to do now. Her face was tear streaked, and yet her eyes held a fierce determination as she gazed into his now soft gray eyes.

"I'm still not just going to accept this." She said bluntly. Draco let out a soft laugh. This woman was going to be the death of him. He thought it best not to point out the fact that she protested their mating, and yet she still remained firmly entrenched in his arms.

Realizing this at the same moment that he did, she backed away hurriedly, blushing slightly at the previous close contact.

"For one thing," she continued, looking around at the misty sky, "I want to know everything about your Arkkien heritage. I don't think its fair for you to ask me to drop everything and just go with it. I've never been a 'just go with it' person, and I think you can appreciate the fact that I'm not exactly eager to start now." She began to look more confident, the stating of the obvious seemed to be doing wonders to her emotional stability.

Draco began to smile slightly. This was the Hermione that he had known in school. Factual and precise, willing to embark on a journey as long as she knew absolutely everything about the destination.

Noticing his grin, she stopped mid-sentence. "What?" She said, her voice defensive. "Going to tell me that as your mate I can't know anything sensitive about you? Because let me tell you—

Draco interrupted her before her rant got into full swing. "I'm not smiling about your requests, Hermione. I think they're fine. I just find it amusing that you seem so very worried that I'm going to keep you in the dark. You think I want the smartest witch of her age molding in a corner, unable to help me? I don't know what the hell I am. I know only what a bunch of half-assed books have been able to tell me. I know I can control storms—but I would be hard-pressed to tell you if I could control anything else. I can feel your emotions," At this, Hermione straightened her spine and glared at him accusatorily, "…to an extent…" He added hurriedly. "But I don't know if it's a permanent thing, or just a symptom of the mating process. I don't know what the hell's going on with me, Hermione. And so I _want _to tell you all about this. I don't want you in the dark, because odds are you'll know more about me than I will."

Draco stopped talking, aware that Hermione had stopped making protesting noises long ago. She had simply stood, and listened. There was not even a single readable expression on her face.

They stood there in silence for a couple minutes, the smell of the earth after a fresh storm permeating the air around them. Draco looked up and smiled at the sight of the rainbow that greeted him in the sky. He wasn't sure if the rainbow had been of his own design (because he was feeling rather happy at unloading his thoughts) or if it was just a natural miracle.

After a minute or so of quiet, Hermione sighed. "I don't know whether to kiss you because you're so flattering, or to smack you senseless for reading my emotions."

Draco laughed, a barking laugh that broke the tension in the easy quiet of the post-storm woods. "If you're really in a stalemate, I vote for the kiss."

Hermione smiled and reached for his face with her right hand. He grinned back and leaned in, closing his eyes and anticipation.

And so it was with great surprise that he felt the smack connect with his cheek.

"Ouch! What the hell was that for?" He yelled, grabbing his cheek with his left hand.

"I voted for a compromise." She said, smirking. That same hand that smacked him wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling his bemused head down to meet her awaiting lips.

The kiss this time was just as hungry as the previous one, the two of them intent on climbing into each other's very essence. Their tongues battled for dominance, and it was with great surprise to Draco that he felt his Arkkien side growl in appreciation of the dominant, fiery woman at his lips. Instead of wanting submission, Draco found that his instincts were basking in the presence of Hermione's no nonsense attitude.

Go figure. Having spent his whole life looking for a meek woman, the very thing he craved most now was the spitfire woman who had just smacked him.

Needing air, Hermione broke the kiss, laughing into the moist air. Draco backed his neck away from her face, gazing into her eyes with a surprised smile. He laughed with her. "I think you'll be the death of me, Hermione Granger."

Hermione winked at him.

"I think I will, Draco Malfoy. Now, remove your hands from my waist. There's someone I want you to meet."

**88888888888**

Zoe gazed in shock at the man Hermione had led by the hand into her apartment. This was the man that Hermione had left in England, unwilling to commit to a relationship with?

He was fucking gorgeous.

She gave Hermione an expression that said as much. Hermione just rolled her eyes and smiled at her. She grabbed Draco and drew him closer to her, a gesture that clearly said "he's _mine." _Zoe just raised her eyebrows.

"I thought we were having commitment issues." She said, maintaining a complete deadpan expression.

Hermione laughed. "Well, its surprising how much your opinion can waver when you've got a guy like this doing the pleading." She jostled Draco playfully, and he just gave her a smirk. "Zoe, this is Draco Malfoy."

Zoe eyebrows shot up at the mention of his name. "Draco Malfoy? As in the Draco Malfoy that runs Malfoy Medical? You're famous." She said the last comment with surprise, giving off the impression that she was surprised that Hermione had kept that from her.

Hermione gave Draco a quizzical look. "Malfoy Medical?"

Zoe whistled. "Well, I'm beginning to see your commitment problems, boyo. If you don't tell the woman anything, she's not exactly going to love you. Malfoy Medical is a drug company. It manufactures some of the most cutting edge medical drugs in the business right now. I just did a freelance article for the GR Press about it a couple of weeks ago."

Hermione continued to look at Draco, letting him know that he was definitely going to be explaining why he ran a perfectly normal Muggle franchise as well as a burgeoning potions company. And neglected to put the Muggle company on his registration forms for her clientele sheet.

"Well, enough awkward standing at the door. Come on in, gorgeous. And Hermione, you can come in too, I suppose." She ushered the two of them in, noting with interest that Draco watched Hermione's every move on their way into the living room.

**88888888**

The three of them spent the rest of the Saturday talking, switching from topic to topic with relative ease, especially given the fact that the three of them had only just met within a week for all three of them. Hermione and Zoe spent a long time detailing their adventures in Grand Rapids, and Draco laughed at their antics. He noticed that the two of them were completely at ease with each other, and they acted almost like siblings.

He felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Hermione leaving Zoe behind.

After a relaxed dinner spent in the apartment, Draco motioned for Hermione to talk with him in the hallway, away from the singing Zoe in the kitchen.

"Hermione, you know we have to leave, right?"

She looked at him, her expression puzzled. "Why do we have to leave so soon? If you have to hurry back, go ahead. I don't mind hanging back for a couple days."

Draco sighed. "I have to get back, Hermione. I left a lot of stuff going on back home. And I need to take you with me."

Hermione expression grew stony. "Is this how it's going to be? Because I refuse to be treated like your own personal lap dog, Draco."

"Hermione, you don't understand."

"What don't I understand? I think I understand everything." She glared at him.

Draco just sighed. He turned around and showed her the tattoo on his back, spelling his shirt transparent. Hermione gasped at his wings. They weren't a luminous blue anymore. They were now gray on the edges, and on the very tips, white.

"Draco! What's wrong with your wings?" Hermione gasped, her anger forgotten.

Draco turned around, his expression somber. "The Arkkien power is going to fade the longer I am apart from you."

Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand. "but I'm right here. I'm touching you!"

Draco shook his head. "It's not the same thing, Hermione. My Arkkien heritage won't recognize you until we complete the mating bond. It won't matter how close we are until we complete it."

Hermione's face turned ashen gray. "Is your mating rituals similar to other magical beings' mating rituals?"

Draco nodded.

**88888888**

**A/N: I'm just a-updating like fire now xD. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I thought I'd leave a little cliffie about the mating rituals. It's a little different for the Arkkien than what you're thinking. **

**Something's going to happen to Hermione during the process, as well. : )**

**Any ideas as to what? (Oh how I love seeing what you guys guess! : ) I know it's my inner evil side coming out, but I can't help it…..)**

**Until next time, **

**TLA**

**Please R & R with your thoughts! : )**


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